


I'm Coming Home

by Nerieda



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Coma, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25194535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerieda/pseuds/Nerieda
Summary: MC/reader returns to the Human Realm after the year is up.  They've spent the past year in a coma, and life moves on.  But is that what they want?
Kudos: 59





	I'm Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is an elaboration/spin-off of a headcanon I had posted on Tumblr. Essentially, what if the MC's soul was the only thing that was pulled to the Devildom for the program, and their body was left behind in a coma-like state.

You said your goodbyes, the bright light of the spell surrounding you; sending you home. The faces of the demons you’d spent the last year with, your friends, your lover, they all faded from view. You closed your eyes against the heartache, burning their faces into you memory. Hoping it wouldn’t be the last time you’d see any of them.

When you opened your eyes, it was to an unfamiliar ceiling, bare neutral walls and soft afternoon light leaking through closed blinds. Harsh beeping made you turn your head in confusion, finally realizing you were in a hospital. The door was open, excited sounds outside in the hall. The voice of your mother, calling for a nurse. The nurse bustling into the room, silencing the machine.

A coma, they said. You found collapsed in your apartment floor by your roommate a year ago. The doctors couldn’t figure out what had happened. You just…weren’t there. You knew, but you knew telling them wouldn’t be wise. So you didn’t. Kept the secret of what the past year had been like for you locked away in your heart. Your family was devout; telling them you’d been in hell with Satan and Lucifer while humorous in your mind wouldn’t have gone well with them.

A few weeks in the hospital, regaining strength. Physical therapy, close monitoring of everything, to watch for a relapse. Therapists, clergy, all wanting to know what you’d experienced. Still you kept your silence, making up wavering, uncertain dream states. 

Your parents insisted that you stay with them, all your belongings had been brought home when you went into the hospital, your roommate had someone else to help them with the rent now. That’s when it started hitting you. By now you’d expected to see _someone_. You would almost be convinced that it _was_ just a dream. Except that when you finally had time in private, back in your childhood bedroom, you stood in front of your mirror and saw the proof. Your pact marks, though faint, were there. All seven, marking your skin in the places they had been since each brother had given them to you. You tried making sure the skin was visible during the day, your family knew you had no tattoos, they certainly didn’t approve of them. No reaction meant that you knew you were the only one who could see them. Late one night, you tried, using anything you could remember about how to use them. Called out to each of them in turn, but you were met with silence. 

Life returned to “normal”; you found a new job, determined to get out of your parent’s stifling, overprotective reach as soon as you could. Most of your friends had moved on, several married now, even a few with little ones on the way. You made new friends and the loneliness eased.

As the months went on, you were finally content enough with your life. Your missed them all still, missed the sense of belonging you’d found there. You signed up for a family lineage site, poring over entries late into the night, curious if you could find her. As much for your peace of mind as anything. It was a fun hobby, but proved fruitless.

It was worst when you’d feel like one of them was there. A glimpse of sandy blonde hair in a clothing store, the hint of Asmo’s tittering laughter. You’d look again and nothing. Browsing the stacks of the library and see a blue jacket worn ridiculously on one arm. Turn the corner after them and it was just a little old lady, not even wearing blue. Your heart almost stopped when you passed a game store in the mall, a loud drawn out scream over some figure making you double take. You knew before turning around, there wasn’t anyone there. Days like that were the ones to leave you full of heartache. 

After a rough day at work, the walk through park on your way home usually helped you unwind. This time, it was the twins. You’d swear that was Beel’s mop or red hair, Belphie’s dark head against his shoulder as he dozed. It was out of the corner of your eye, and it looked like Beel waved at you but by the time you turned, the bench was empty. You dragged yourself home, begged off dinner and dropped face first into your bed. The glimpses were getting more frequent, every few days you had another burst of hope only for it to shatter a heartbeat later.

You grabbed your pillow to bury your face in, hide the sobs you felt in your throat. Underneath it your hand hit something that you were sure hadn’t been there that morning. Wide-eyed you pulled your D.D.D. out from under the pillow. You glanced at the door, hopping up and clicking the lock before sitting on the bed. Hands shaking, you unlocked the device. You immediately saw the notifications for several messages. You read each in turn, tears coming to your eyes as several of them were from the days you knew you’d seen or heard them. They’d all been watching you, but not allowed to let you know. It wasn’t much, but it made your heart soar to know you hadn’t imagined it.

The last messages were different. One was from him. The one that leaving hurt the most. Promising that as soon as possible, he would stop the hiding, stop the games. The final message, just sent that afternoon, was from the Prince. Detailing why the silence, why the lack of communication for the past months. He wanted to give you time to readjust to your life in your world. They’d all petitioned him for you to stay, even he didn’t want to see you go. But they all saw reported back to him, what they’d seen, what they’d heard. Even when you hadn’t noticed them.

Your eyes filled with tears. The last sentences were an offer to come home, come back to them, permanently. But, if you did, you likely wouldn’t be able to return to the human world. That was the reason for the adjustment period. But they knew you weren’t happy. Not the way you’d been before. They’d seen it. You had a choice to make. One message back, and a portal would be ready for you to return. 

You sat and stared at your device, mind reeling. The thought of leaving your family behind, for good, it didn’t sit well with you. But then again, you had another family too; and the hole in your heart that leaving them a world away had left was slowly eating you alive. Fingers steady, you made your answer, sent it, and waited. The response didn’t take long, two simple words.

_Very Well._


End file.
